Fixing Broken Novels & Stories

We did not fracture under pressure anymore. We reinforced.

She stubbornly kept her eyes on the file and pressed her lips together around whatever wanted to come out of her mouth. "The encryption issue is in the third layer." She said. "Someone patched over a vulnerability without rebuilding the underlying structure and now the patch is failing under load." "Can you fix it." She looked up at him. "I already know how." She said. "Three hours." Jeff looked at her across the desk, his wife, his co-CEO, sitting with a burned hand and a marked cheek reading a file that Theresa had declared a two week problem and solving it in the same morning it landed in front of her.

Until he engulfed me into the biggest, longest, best hug. It was almost like he fixed all my broken pieces.

“Look, Isaac, I–” “No.” “You don’t know what I want to say.” “I have a good idea. It’s probably something I’ve heard before.” “Not this. I want to fix things between us.” “There’s nothing to fix.” “How about we begin on a clean slate, then?” “I have a boyfriend.”

“Oh. Sorry. I thought I just paid a tow invoice to 360 Bike Repairs. I thought it was for his bike.” She rambled on about the bags not having utensils in them while unraveled what she just said. Up until now, I assumed Dmitry was still paying Rick to fix his bike. I guess it made sense for Dmitry to take it somewhere else after what happened. There was no way they could keep a business relationship after what Dmitry witnessed. “You are right.” I said trying to cover. “I met him there when he came to get a quote for repairs, but my dad was unable to do the job. Hence 360 Bike Repairs.”

Something he would never, ever say out loud to me. "I care," he finally said. Each word was hard and sharp, like a piece of glass. "Because when he breaks you, and he will break you, I am the one who will have to pick up the pieces. I am always the one who has to fix things. I am always the one who has to put people back together." With those terrible words, he turned and walked away for the second time. He left me standing alone in the hallway. His words cut me. They hurt me more than any knife could.

Georgia's tears stopped her from finishing her words. But whatever she has said was enough for me to understand why she was like this. Wrapping my arms around her body once more, I stroked her back softly. I had never been in such a situation but I didn't need to be there to understand how much betrayal hurt. “There there Georgia. People are shitty sometimes, I promise you, you'll find better.” I muttered, pulling her closer as she shuddered in soft sobs. As much as this marriage was fake, seeing her breaking down in my arms makes me want to reassure her.

I didn't ask for anything that wasn't rightfully mine, but I made damn sure to get everything that was. I glanced at Zachary beside me, he looked completely broken. Anxious. Defeated. Nothing like the confident man I'd married. "Ella, is this really it for us? No second chances?" "That's right. We're done." I studied his face, remembering how nervous he'd been when he first asked me out all those years ago. But I wasn't that starry-eyed girl anymore. A cracked mirror can never reflect a perfect image again. Zachary and I—our story had reached its final page.

Everything seemed to come back to my mind again. I don’t know what I should do. I’m confused, scared with what I might learn. I’m scared that what I’m about to learn will break me more into pieces. I don’t want this anymore. I’m fed up of being weak and how I always need to fix my broken self. If only… If only he loves me… I’ll be able to at least accept everything.

He was not weak and, to Atticus, crying was a weakness. Leaning his forehead against the cool windowpane, he closed his eyes. The moonlight bathed his skin, painting the hard planes of his nose and cheeks silver. He shuddered. Breaking the bond had made him erratic and emotional. He had to pull himself together – now. Lily had been gone for weeks. But neither time nor distance made his pain lessen, and he was – in the dark of night, alone and ashamed – beginning to wonder if, perhaps, he had made a mistake.